


The Night the Rain Came

by CarolPeletier



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 19:32:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5552528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarolPeletier/pseuds/CarolPeletier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All she wants is him home safely.  Nothing more.  Nothing less.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Night the Rain Came

Disclaimer: I own nothing from The Walking Dead

Author’s Note:  This is my attempt at getting back into my writing.  I’m just wading into the waters and testing them out.  Hope this one’s enjoyable.

The Night the Rain Came

A half-crushed pack of Morley cigarettes sits to the wayside as she stands on shaking legs and pushes back the kitchen chair.  Cheap aluminum screeches against textured linoleum, and Carol barely flinches at the noise.  She hears Judith laughing on the monitor as Carl tells her a silly story.  Inside this house, it’s like nothing ever happened.  The blood still stains the grass and the asphalt on the street.  But inside the house, music plays from the attic, comic books lay in a pile at the bottom of the stairs.  Judy Grimes giggles as if twenty four hours ago, she hadn’t nearly been ripped to pieces by a hoard of walkers.  Thank God she’s still too young.  Thank God she won’t remember watching Sam, Jessie and Ron get ripped apart right next to her.

Carol hears the comforting sounds of hushed whispers coming from the living room.  Rick and Michonne are devising a plan, going to look for their still-missing friends.  Glenn came back at nightfall, but Abe, Daryl and Sasha are still not home.  Inside this house, life goes on.  Outside, it’s a wasteland, and dozens of Alexandrians are working tirelessly to get the wall back up.  They’ve all pitched in, each taking turns on the wall and with watching Judith.  And now the moon is high, and it’s a starless night as clouds roll in to hover ominously over this once quiet town. 

She hears something in the distance, the rev of a motor, and her heart skips a beat.  But she remembers it’s just the vehicle being used to help push the wall upright again.  If it was Daryl, she’d know it.  She’d feel it.  She can’t feel anything right now.  She can still feel the warm slickness of blood on Sam’s tiny hand as he gripped at her shirt and tried to bite her.  She can still hear the raspy growls as he struggled to move through the pile of his mother and brother’s broken, bloody limbs.  She can hear the scrap of blade over bone as she sunk her knife into his temple and watched the blankness in his eyes flicker for only a brief moment before he faded away completely. 

Her stomach lurches, and she grabs the pack of cigarettes and tosses them in the waste bin.  She turns to grip the rim of the kitchen sink, shoulders slumping as she closes her eyes and bows her head, silently praying for what she’s prayed for for the last few nights.  She doesn’t even believe in God anymore, and she doesn’t even believe her prayers will work, but old habits are hard to break, and she still keeps the small cross she used to wear around her neck.  She carries it in her pocket now to remind her of what used to be and how she must believe in something more than that, something tangible.

A bright bolt violently rips across the sky, and thunder shakes the house.  Judith’s giggles turn to whimpers of alarm, and Carl speaks to her in soothing tones, calming her before she can get herself too worked up.

The groan of steel is unmistakable as the thunder settles into the steady patter of rain.  Carol moves into the living room, where Rick and MIchonne have gone to the window to peek outside.

“It’s a bad one,” Michonne said quietly, voice almost too soft to be heard over the sheets of rain battering the sides of the house.  Carol reaches for a shawl, and Rick reaches for her shoulder.  She looks to him, and he doesn’t speak.  He slowly moves his hand, and she steps outside, wrapping herself up, shielding herself from the rain. 

“Bring him home,” she whispers, as a flash of lightning illuminates the town.  And she sees him.  Standing in the middle of the street, limping as he hangs his head, hair plastered to his face and dripping as he marches toward home.

She thinks she’s dreaming for a moment, but she blinks, and he’s still there, and she wonders for a moment if this is God’s way of saying ‘told ya so.’  She doesn’t care.  It doesn’t matter.  The only thing that matters is the way her breath burns her lungs as she takes off, feet pounding the ground and splashing water up into onto her pants as she rushes toward him.  And he freezes for just a moment before his shoulders shake with heavy breath.  And then he’s moving faster, one leg a little slower than the other, but he stays upright.  And then she’s in his arms, and the shaking thunder has nothing on the pounding of her heart as he holds her closer than he’s ever held her before.  And he’s home, and she’s crying against his neck.

“You’re here,” she whispers, kissing him where his neck pokes out of his shirt, feeling his pulse bruising her lips. 

“Told ya I’d come back,” he murmurs, squeezing her a little tighter, reminding her of their last night together, the night before he’d left to help lead the walkers away.  He wants to kiss her, but she won’t let go, only buries her face against his chest as his hand moves up into her soaking hair. 

“You’re ok?” she asks, trembling as the rain begins to slow around them.

“I’ve been worse,” he promises, as she finally dares to look up, to look into his eyes.  “But I ain’t never been better.”  Carol smiles then, and the tears spill over as she reaches for his hands.  

“Come on,” she murmurs, pulling on his arm as they begin to walk together, side-by-side for old time’s sake.  “Let’s get you home.”


End file.
